Going to the Chapel
by moms5thchild
Summary: This is Frank and Karen's story. Sometimes the right guy comes along.
1. Chapter 1

This just seemed a natural continuation to the saga of Karen and Frank. My other stories will continue, but this one is nibbling at the corners of my mind and demanding to be written. Pushy muse, not giving me ideas where I need them and demanding I do what it wants.

**Going to the Chapel **

Part One

"Ugh," Karen threw herself down on her chair and pushed her thumb into the waistband of her pants. "Why didn't I listen to Frank and elope as soon as he was released from the hospital."

"Because you wanted a wedding like every other woman wants," Russo piped in.

"Yeah, maybe a wedding, but not a circus," she grimaced as her stomach twisted into tighter knots. So far Karen had been spared morning sickness; she didn't need to start up chucking in front of the guys. Only Jim knew about her pregnancy and she wanted to keep it that way. But was it her imagination or were her pants already starting to feel tight?

"Karen, Christie doesn't have to get back to work for another week, why don't you drop by and ask her to help?" Jim turned towards his partner and smiled. "She needs something to occupy her time right now."

"What will my mother and Mrs. Daniels say when I don't listen to them?"

This time Marty had right answer. "You say this is my wedding and I am through trying to make too many people happy. The only people I have to worry about are me and Frank."

"Just watch out for all the knives that will be in your back." Jim said as he opened his computer. "Christie and I wanted a small wedding; we ended up with three bridesmaids and three groom's men, a flower girl, a ring bearer and a country club reception. Good thing her parents had the cash to foot the bill."

"If we had to depend on my parents we'd be holding the reception at Denny's." Karen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "The Daniels said they would cover the costs, but I don't want to use anybody's money but mine."

"What about Frank's money?" Tom finally asked. "He's a lawyer; he has to have some cash."

"That's going into a down payment on an apartment. I am not living in his parent's basement." Karen jumped up and ran past the guys on the way to the ladies room.

Marty leaned towards Jim and whispered, "I think that wedding better happen soon. I haven't seen anyone act like that since my wife was pregnant with Julie."

* * *

"Christie, we're here," Jim said as he entered and went through the ritual of dropping his keys on the entryway table, hanging up his coat and taking Hank's harness off.

Christie came up and wrapped Karen in a tight hug. "Thank you for coming. I've been thinking about weddings ever since I got your call and I have some great ideas."

"As long as I don't look like a snow bank of legs," Karen laughed as she pulled back to take a good look at Christie. She still looked pale and drawn. Karen had visited twice since the Dunbars had lost their baby and felt like she was becoming one of Christie's good friends. Seeing the sadness in her eyes almost made Karen feel ashamed at being pregnant. Now Christie seemed to be putting all the hopes she had had for her own baby into Karen's; helping plan the wedding seemed as natural as asking any other friend.

"I have ideas, but first we'll eat and then we'll get down to the details."

"Will I be needed?" Jim asked as he headed to the kitchen and the beer waiting in the fridge.

"No," the women chorused.

"Fine, just what I wanted to hear." He smiled and then he tilted back the bottle.

* * *

"Frank," Eunice Daniels tapped on the door to her son's apartment. She liked having him here. He was her youngest, a surprise baby after a ten year gap. Brian Jr. and Clare were gone, one to California and the other to Toronto; but they were strong and healthy with families of their own. Frank needed to be looked after. Eunice knew when he was sick or tired or injured because she could check on him everyday. Now her baby wanted to get married… to a Puerto Rican homicide detective. Why was God punishing her with a daughter in law like that?

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Frank wheeled to the entryway that connected his apartment from the rest of the house. "I thought I locked that door."

"I was worried, so I used my key." She tried to look innocent, but failed miserably. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Frank rolled his eyes as he rolled his chair back to allow his mother past him. She immediately went to the kitchen and filled the kettle.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you."

"I was hoping Karen was here. I have a tentative guest list to show her."

Frank held his hand out to his mother, silently asking for the list. When she pulled it out of her pocket Eunice knew Frank would never allow it to stay in tact.

"Mother, there must be over one hundred names here."

"One hundred and eight… couples," she smiled as the kettle started to whistle. "Do you want some tea too?"

"What I want is for you to understand that this is going to be a small wedding. We are having one hundred people _or less _in total. That means I get to invite fifty people _or less_."

Mrs. Daniels sat down and looked her son in the eye. "I think I should be talking about this to the bride. I have all sorts of ideas about the dresses and the flowers and if we want to have the wedding at your Uncle Greg's church we have to book a year in advance."

"Mother, the wedding will be no later than December 26th. It will be small and it will be in Canarsie where the Betancourts live. Father Greg has already said he'd marry us where ever we want. If I find out you have been bothering Karen with this shi….stuff I know one person who will not be invited to the wedding. Understand?"

Eunice Daniels closed her eyes and sniffed. "When did you become so cruel?"

"The day I figured out that even though you aren't on the stage, you can act like a martyr at the drop of a hat."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

My, this one is coming along fast. Thank you for the reviews, expecially you, Beth. I was worried about creating a totally new character for my BJ universe. I only wish there were more than 13 shows to work with.

**Going to the Chapel**

Chapter 2

"I found it, on the internet I found it. You will be so be-yoo-ti-ful."

Karen held the receiver away from her ear until the pain subsided. "Momma, can't you begin a call with hello anymore?"

"I'm just so excited," the Brooklyn in her voice got heavier the faster she spoke. "Your fadder will wear a tuxedo and you'll have dis off de shoulder white sheath, very plain but in satin and a veil dat starts at de top of ya head and sweeps down to da flore."

"Mom, calm down. This is not turning into my big, fat Puerto Rican wedding. I found a dress today."

"Wha," the silence that came over the phone went on for a long time, "without me?"

Karen knew her mother's tactics in the battle of parent versus child. First Momma's voice would get very soft and precise, sounded almost as English as her immigrant father's. Then her lip would tremble and moisture would collect along her eyelids… not tears but certainly not stoicism. "Mom, it's going to be an empire waist, tea length dress. Icicle blue that's so light it's almost white and the lace has silver threads through it. It's gorgeous."

"And where, darling, did you find this gorgeous gown?" Connie Betancourt said in her best Queen Mother voice.

Time to lay it on thick, "Christie Dunbar's magazine is doing an article on real brides and she's says I'm getting the dress to use and my picture in an actual fashion magazine when I wear it. Only a thumbnail picture, but Momma, it's a designer dress, not offa the rack or anything."

"Gawd, I always said you coulda been a model, if you weren't so short." The smile was back in her mother's voice. "Do you think I can get her to find a mother of the bride dress too?"

* * *

The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Daniels, Judge Daniels is here to see you." 

Frank rolled his eyes and wondered what screw up had gotten his father to drop in unannounced on a Tuesday when court was in session. "Send him in and then bring us coffee, Sheila."

Judge Brian Daniels walked into the windowless inner office his son occupied. Three short steps brought him to the chair in front of Frank's desk and he moved the stack of papers to the floor so he could sit in the cluttered space.

"Your mother is making my life hell."

"And how are you today, Dad," Frank ignored the voice of doom pronouncement his father laid on his youngest son.

"Your mother seems to think you don't love her anymore; at least that is the whine I got a breakfast." The judge steepled his fingers and stared into his boy's eyes.

Frank dropped his head to his chest and gave his father the evil stare right back at him. He was not about to cave into his parent's emotional blackmail this time.

Judge Daniels began "your mother put her…"

"Life on hold after your accident to make sure that you could function at your full potential. Yes, Dad, I know and I know how lucky I am but I am thirty three years old and by the time BJ and Clare were my age they were married and gone. Did you ever wonder why they went as far away as they did?" Frank leaned his elbows on his desk and renewed his stare and for the first time, the Judge turned away before he did. One point to Frankie, it was time to be a little nice. Sheila brought the coffee in just in time. "Why are you here while court is in session? Run out of arraignments?"

"Actually, there was a bomb scare, so I took advantage of the situation to see you." A smile flitted across his father's lips that made the Judge look like William Hurt, only with dark hair. "Now, what is your mother so annoyed with? It couldn't possibly be the fact we still haven't seen more of your fiancée than her back as she scampers off to work."

"Scampers? Karen is a detective, a homicide detective for the NYPD. I don't think scampering was a pre-requisite to getting into the academy." Frank stopped; he knew his father had just gotten him back. "When do you want us there?"

"Tomorrow night at seven, that is if nobody in the Eighth Precinct dies violently."

"I'll call and ask Karen to make sure there are no violent deaths in her agenda. Now, how about drinking your coffee and telling me what you really want to say."

* * *

Karen nosed the car through the Manhattan traffic all the while keeping a never ending monologue droning into Jim Dunbar's ears. 

"You wouldn't believe the hell apartment hunting has been. Either there are stairs where there should be ramps or the doors are so tight off the hallway you can't maneuver a wheelchair inside without taking your kneecaps off and don't even start me on bathrooms. And the prices, god, as soon as you say accessible it's like the realtor's cash registers goes cha-ching and the price of everything doubles."

Jim put his hand up to stop words coming out of Karen's mouth. "Welcome to the world of the handicapped," he said with a grim smile. "There is always going to be someone who is going to equate… disabled with stupid."

Karen glanced at her partner. She had never heard him talk like this before.

"Christie and I are lucky, we were already settled when this happened." Jim waved his fingers over his unfocused eyes. "And I don't have to worry about climbing stairs, just tripping over them. Where are you looking to live, anyway?"

"Anywhere but where we are now. My place is too small and Frank lives in his parent's basement."

"I thought he had money? I bet the both of you could find something really nice?" The silence from the other side of the car spoke volumes to Jim. "I bet he has found some nice places already, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to spend all his money on a place we'll probably not stay in very long."

"Karen, talk to me. What is the real problem?"

"We're here," Karen ignored the question as she pulled the car behind one of the black and whites already at the crime scene.

Jim slipped his glasses on his nose before getting out of the car and shook out his white cane before Karen could get to his side. "Tell you what; let's count how many of these guys talk louder as soon as I get there. If it's more than four you have to buy the coffee, deal?"

"Deal," and then Karen winced when the first uniformed office who was virtually beside them nearly shouted at the top of his lungs for Jim to watch his step.

* * *

The opening of the front door and the jingle of dog tags told Christie that her husband was home. She watched him as he went through his coming in ritual and remembered the orientation and mobility trainer stressing about a place for everything and everything in its place. It took all the spontaneity out of home décor, but being able to see Jim stride through their home with confidence was worth the price. After dropping his badge in the desk drawer he should have went for a beer but instead tipped his head to the left and went completely still. Then he turned and walked straight to her.

"How much Chanel No. 5 did you splash on today," he smiled as he sat down next to her.

"About a gallon, I wanted to be a soft target tonight," Christie leaned into his shoulder and Jim snaked his arm around her.

"You are always my soft target." Jim buried his nose in her hair and breathed in deep. Christie snuggled closer to him and sighed, it was as easy to really love him as it was to get really mad at him.

"What's for dinner?"

"We're supposed to be going to the Four Seasons for a meet and greet tonight," She felt him stiffen underneath her, "but we have the perfect excuse to stay home because of the… operation… you know."

Jim chewed his lip. Christie had left the decision to him whether to go to some fashionista function or not. He remembered telling Karen today about the world of the handicapped and what it was like to inhabit that closed little ghetto. Did he really have to right to consign Christie to this place when all he had to do was move forward to get out? He was a the NYPD's first blind police sergeant and he was probably a lot more interesting than three quarters of the weirdoes that populated Christie's world. He'd just have to keep the white cane out and keep smiling. What was one more fake smile at one of those little soirees anyway?"

"Can we at least get a slice before we go? I hate the mouth surprises I get when canapés get shoved at me."

"Of course, oh Jimmy, thank you so much. I've been going stir crazy here these past six weeks." Christie jumped up and put her hands on his shoulders. "I know just what you should wear, totally masculine and totally gorgeous."

"Yeah, I just live to be totally gorgeous," he deadpanned until Christie's grateful kiss made him smile.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

This story is coming very fast, so I guess I better just keep up with the flow. This chapter is a little short, but it seemed like a natural place to stop. Please forgive me for being a little lazy here.

**Going to the Chapel**

Chapter Three

"We just can't get away from here, can we?" Frank said as he leaned over and kissed the top of Karen's head. They were in Karen's studio apartment sitting in front of the notorious day bed, going over guest lists their mothers had submitted.

"We could, but then, my mother doesn't have a key to this place."

"Shot to the very center of my being," Frank grasped his shirt and fell over onto Karen's lap.

"Get offa me, you big lummox," she giggled as she pushed at Frank's shoulders.

"Only if you have a definition of a lummox," he whispered and then pulled her down and into a long, slow kiss. Karen's hands started to glide over Frank's shoulders and wrap around them to pull closer to her man. As they began to shift and fumble the lists were forgotten as their passion rose.

"We are supposed to be" kiss "at" kiss "my parents" kiss "in an hour."

"I'm not hungry… for your parents."

Button popped, straps and zippers were undone until Karen came to the braces. "Show me how to take these off."

"You've seen me take them off before."

"You've done it, now it's my turn." Her hands slid down to the buckles and Velcro that held the metal and fiber glass to his legs. "How do you feel about that?"

"Uhm," Frank never had any of his other women do this before. It was strange and wonderful.

"Do you feel me if I do this," Karen's hand slid down to Frank's knees.

"Some, not all the way down," his whisper was tinged with embarrassment.

Karen smiled and ran her fingers back up to where the sensation was full and real. "Now I know where you feel, but I gotta tell you that I tingle all the way down to my toes." With that she eased the braces off Frank's legs.

"I'll call later and say we had car trouble," Frank said as he stretched his hand down to Karen's knees and pulled them up to he could easily tickle her toes. "I think I've got a motor running here and I don't want it to stop."

"Frank, don't stop."

* * *

"Jimmy, stop that!" Christie shot him a venomous look as another piece of popcorn sailed her way to land silently on the floor. 

Jim, who had headphones on as if he were listening to a talking book, pretended he didn't hear her and sent another piece sailing her way. Christie got up, snatched the bowl of pop corn out of his hands and stomped to the bathroom to flush the contents down the toilet.

"Hey, I was eating that," he whined.

"No you weren't, you were playing with your food. I can hear you mother applauding me all the way from the farm for taking it away from you." Christie stomped past Jim and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jim followed quickly and pushed noisily through the door. "Talk to me."

"I'm tired," her voice came from the bed.

"I'm not asking you to run a marathon, I am asking you to talk to me. Damn it, you're the one who says we need to communicate" Jim climbed into the bed and reached for Christie, capturing her wrist and pulling her stiff body to him. "Christie, I lost something too. I always wanted kids, I always thought they would just come; you know, like sunrise everyday."

Christie went very still… she knew her husband. Jim would run over a scenario in his head every which way and chew his lip raw before he opened his mouth and let his thoughts out for public inspection. It made him a good cop. Equated children with the sun made her realize just how much this loss was affecting him. She relaxed and finally, after six weeks of holding them in check, let her tears fall. Soon violent sobs wracked her body as Jim gently held her, rocking her as if she was the child they had lost.

"I understand," Jimmy murmured over and over. Oh yes, he understood loss and, maybe, he was beginning to understand his wife.

* * *

Eunice was sitting at the kitchen table in Frank's dark apartment when she heard his car pull up. She was so angry she could just spit! When Frank came into the kitchen she couldn't stop herself so she snapped on the lights and rushed her son. 

"Where were you? You were supposed to be here with your fiancé tonight. I had your Aunt Beryl and Uncle Francis here and you didn't even have the decency to think up a good excuse for not being here." Eunice slammed her hands down on the counter top. "Get that smug smile off your face because you haven't done anything any other randy little bastard hasn't done to their parents." She started pacing back and forth in front of Frank, her arms waving in counter point to the rising volume of her voice. "You think I don't know what you do when you go slumming with that little spic cop. Canarsie! You go running to Canarsie to avoid family responsibilities. Mark my words, Francis Xavier Daniels, you'll get tired of playing with her and wish to god you never left home."

"Eunice," Brian Daniels voice stopped the flow of invective spewing from his wife's mouth. He was standing in the connecting doorway watching as his wife cringed under his icy stare. "Get upstairs, I'll be there shortly."

"Brian," she whispered. She had never intended to get caught speaking her mind and now Eunice Daniels carefully hidden bigotry was laid out for her husband to see.

"We'll talk later," the Judge held open the door for his wife. She salvaged as much dignity as she could and walked past him and up to the main floors.

"You know I can't stay here anymore." Frank's voice pulled his father's face down to his. "I can't even stay here one more night."

Brian Daniels looked at his son, his surprise baby who had kept him feeling young long after his other children were gone. The child he wanted to protect and coddle after a stupid drinking party broke his back and crippled his beautiful boy. The child he wanted to keep close for as long as possible.

"I know, I'll help you pack."

"Thanks, Dad." He rolled his chair toward the bedroom when the Judge put his hand on Frank's shoulder. He tipped his head so his cheek touched the back of that hand for just a moment and then headed for his closet. Together, silently, they filled Frank's suitcases and put them in the old car. As Frank pulled away Brian Daniels wanted nothing more than to join his boy as he went off into the night.

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

You'll never guess what I found when I was researching this story When I saw the picture I recognized the place immediately.

**Going to the Chapel**

Chapter Four

Fisk looked up from his desk to see Karen framed in the doorway. "Yes," slipped out as his eyes went back to the paperwork on his desk.

"Boss, when is the soonest I can get two weeks off in a row."

Fisk looked up again to see Karen's face was pale and deep, dark circles sat under her eyes.

"What's the matter? Pre wedding jitters?"

She sighed and pulled the door shut before she continued. "Frank and I were thinking maybe it would be better if we just eloped. You know, head to Vegas and get married by a Klingon."

"If that's what you want, Karen, I can let you know by end of shift the time you have left this year. But Karen, all I've heard for the past three weeks has been your wedding. I have to say I'm curious why the sudden change."

"Nothing, really, just that…"

Fisk thought this would be a good time to see if his guess was right. "Don't tell me that there's a pre-mature baby in your future?"

"No! well yes, but that's not it. I just… we just…" Karen stumbled to the end of her non-explanation.

Fisk got up and walked to the front of his desk. "Karen, don't short change yourself, have your wedding and whatever the problem is that is chasing you to Vegas might not be as big a problem as it looks right now." Karen's tired eyes met his and a small smile played on her lips. "Get to work; I'll let you know about you're time off as soon as I have it figured out."

Karen left Fisk's office and silently went to her desk. Last night had been a nightmare… it had started so good and ended so bad. Now Frank was living out of a suitcase in her studio apartment and her wedding plans were in a shambles. When they left for work this morning Frank said he was going to have a condo bought and paid for before the day was out.

"Karen," Jim Dunbar's voice cut through her black fog, "are you okay?"

How could that man tell when she was upset? Did she give some kind of 'I've been screwed over' vibe she didn't know about? "No, I'm not okay. I'm tired and bloated and I just want to get married and get it over with."

"Why don't you and Frankie fly to Vegas?" Russo said as he came out of the locker room. "Quick, painless and Elvis can do the job."

"Maybe Karen wants to have her family and friends around," Tom added his two cents.

"Stop it, all of you; stop tlking like I'm not here. I am telling you right now it's none of your business." Karen fled to the stairway and was out of the squad room before any one realized she was leaving.

"Was it something I said?" Tom was clearly bewildered.

"I don't think it was," Jim said as he reached for his phone, "but I am damn well going to find out what is going on here. Some one look up the number of Mathany, Mathany and Brooks, there is a certain lawyer I need to kick the shit out of."

"Only if you let me help," Marty said as he got out the yellow pages to hunt down the number.

* * *

Henry Mathany pulled the papers together and patted his young hot shot on the shoulder. "You won't regret this; DUMBO is one of the most desirable neighborhoods in all five boroughs. 57 Front Street is a great building and this apartment is in move in condition." 

"I was going to wait for Karen to see the place first," Frank said as he signed the sales agreement, "but I'm stealing this at $875,000.00. Even if Karen hates it, it will be a great investment."

"Property such as this usually goes for $1,000,000 or more. Pity the owner over extended himself so thoroughly, but that's what makes repossession possible. I'll get these notarized and you have the keys tomorrow. Besides, it isn't every young man who can come up with $775,000 with only a phone call." Mathany said as he double checked the papers...

"It isn't every young man who has sued Harvard and its largest fraternity and won." Frank smiled smugly. The purchase shaved his settlement down by about twenty five per cent, but it was an opportunity too good to pass up. He levered himself up as the senior partner opened his office door to leave. A wall of tall, dangerous looking men with badges hanging from their coats stopped him.

"You seem to have visitors, Frank. Should I wait to get these papers notarized?"

"No, Mr. Mathany, these fellows are just from the bride's side of the family." Frank leaned on his desk as he smiled at his boss, "meet Detectives Russo, Selway, Dunbar… and Hank."

"My pleasure, gentlemen," the man said as he slid past the big blue wall. "I'll see you all at the nuptials."

The exit of Henry Mathany did little to break the tension in the small office. "I only have one chair for visitors here. You'll have to fight for it."

"No, I think we need to go someplace a little less crowded," Jim said as he shifted his weight from one leg to another. Frank could almost feel the man's fingers itching to wrap around his throat.

"I think that can be arranged. Let me get my coat." Frank slipped his pea coat on and slid his arms into his elbow length crutches while the male component of the 8th Precinct homicide squad filed out into the foyer of Mathany, Mathany and Brooks. He wished he could get hold of his Uncle Greg right now, because it looked like he might need the Last Rites very, very soon.

* * *

The quartet made their way to the Eighth Avenue entrance of the office building and headed across West 30th to the Molly Wee Pub. Somehow Frank ended up wedged against the wall across from Jim Dunbar and beside Marty Russo. He swung his gaze to Tom Selway, hoping the even tempered detective would at least offer him the slight moral support of a smile. There was no smile to be seen. 

"Francis," Russo started, "I never had a little sister, but I do have a daughter. You know if anyone made her as upset as Karen was today, I might be moved to…"

"Was she crying?" Frank reached for his cell phone and was about to call his fiancée when Tom put his hand on the phone and shook his head. Frank knew better than to continue.

"What we want to know is why she is so upset?" Tom said as he snapped his gum.

"We didn't say she was crying," Dunbar put in. "Why do you assume she was crying? You must know what happening that might make her feel like crying."

I am so screwed, Frank thought before he continued. "Last night we were supposed to have dinner with my parents."

"Brian and Eunice Daniels," Selway added unnecessarily.

"Yeah, them, and we missed the meal for reasons beyond our control, yeah, and when I got home my mother saw fit to make her displeasure known to me. So I packed my bags and went back to Karen's place. It was late and she wanted to know what happened, so I told her. Now I don't know what's going on with Karen but I do know I will not be inviting my mother to the wedding."

"You suggest eloping," Dunbar asked.

"No, I want to show her off. I want the world to see that I love Karen Betancourt and I want to marry her in front of our friends and family with the exception of my mother."

"Good answer," Russo smiled. Suddenly the vibes around the table felt more lively than lethal. "Sweetheart, we need menus here… three regular and one bumpy."

"That's Braille, Marty, Braille. The only thing bumpy round here will be your head when I finish with you." Jim shot back at Russo.

"You have to catch me first. Hey, Frank, what were you doing when we came to invite you to lunch."

Frank's jaw dropped, "this is how you invite people to lunch. Never take me to dinner." He let out a long breath. "I was buying a condo in DUMBO. It's a real nice building on Front Street and I can get immediate occupancy. Anything is better that Karen's studio on King's Highway."

"Christie and I live in DUMBO; we have for the last three years." Jim said before he ran his fingers over his menu. "Prices in our building were never cheap but lately they have went through the roof." He leaned back and took his glasses off and smiled. "If Christie hadn't inherited money from her Grandfather we'd still be on Coney Island Avenue near Ditmas."

Frank looked up from his menu to study Karen's partner. "I got this through a repossession sale and I know Karen is going to hit the roof when she finds out how much money I spent, but it's a great condo and a great investment. I told her I would be moving fast if I found something and she'll love 57 Front Street, Brooklyn."

It got very quiet and Frank looked up to see all three men with odd smiles on their faces. What had he done now?

"What floor are you on?" Jim asked with a smirk on his face.

"Fourth floor, why?" Frank looked from face to face that surrounded him here.

Russo piped in, "because Jimmy here lives on the third floor."

Dunbar leaned forward and grinned, "Hello neighbor."

"Karen is going to kill me."

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone who have been so kind in sending me their wonderful reviews. It makes me realize that people like happy endings. I hope to this little story that just poured out so quickly will set the stage for a few more.

**Going to the Chapel**

Chapter Five

Richard Betancourt looked at the fifteen steps that lead from the yard to the porch of his ranch house on Avenue K and frowned. After foot ball players, garage mechanics, toll booth collectors and police academy drop outs Karen had stopped bringing her boyfriends home. Now, finally, his baby had someone who was worthy of his smart, beautiful daughter and the front steps were probably going to keep him away.

"At least there isn't any snow on them," the scratchy voice of his beautiful Concepcion was there, forever looking for the best in any situation.

"Connie, I can tell you are thinking about adding an elevator just to get Karen and her man to start visiting every Sunday."

"Well, Sundays with the family is what's supposed to happen." Connie stated in her don't fight with me when I'm right tone of voice. It was that attitude that persuaded Richard Betancourt to stay in America when his first teaching contract had finished twenty seven years ago.

Richard turned back into his house and looked at the guests already there. A judge and a priest sitting in together in this neighbourhood usually indicated a plea bargain deal and not a meet the relative's supper.

"May I freshen your drinks?"

"No, I'm fine," Brian Daniels answered quickly, "but knowing my brother there isn't enough coffee in this world to keep him happy."

"That is untrue," the grey haired priest smiled at his nervous host, "but this is such good coffee I can't resist."

The knock at the front door stopped everything. Karen always knocked before she used her key and today was no exception.

"Daddy, could you help…" and then she noticed the men in the living room and was tempted to turn right around and leave when Judge Daniels walked past her and down the stairs to where Frank was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. She followed him out the door and watched what was going to happen. The Judge went down to his son, took the crutches and wrapped his arm around Frank's waist. Together the walked up the fifteen steps that lead to her parents home.

"I think you picked a winner," Richard whispered to his daughter as he came up behind her. "And I like his family too."

"Well, most of it," Karen leaned back into her father's shoulder, "and as for the rest; keep your fingers crossed."

* * *

Dark, snow laden clouds dipped low over the Manhattan skyline and hid the tops of the tall buildings. Hank's leash hung loosely in Christie's hand as he walked close to her left side while Jim twined his fingers in hers on her right. 

"Penny for your thoughts," Jimmy broke the companionable silence what had wrapped the couple close to each other.

"We were so lucky, weren't we," Christie answered carefully. "Two nearly perfect people heading into a nearly perfect life when we said I do."

"It didn't turn out so perfect, did it?"

"Nope," a sad little laugh escaped her lips. "I was a princess who expected the world to do what I wanted it to and when it didn't I got pissy."

"No," Jim laughed, "no kidding." He stopped and pulled her close. "But then, I'm not much of a Prince Charming either, more like a Prince Idiot sometimes. I wonder how many of your relatives thought I was marrying you for your money."

"I can't count that high. Still, how many guys from your old neighbourhood have a good paying job like you, a legitimate good paying job? I knew I found someone real when I found you."

"A real big pain in the ass," Jim kissed her on the top of her head.

"That too," Christie slipped out of Jim's arms and they started walking again.

"Life threw us some curve balls, that's for sure. Why all the deep thoughts today?"

"Well, I talked to Frank Daniels in the lobby today, seems like the wedding will go off without a mother of the groom of tonight."

"That's her problem, not his and not Karen's. That woman doesn't know what she's missing." Jim paused for just a moment. "Christie, you'll tell me how Karen looks in tonight."

"Including the baby bump?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"No, not anymore."

* * *

"Somehow I figured you'd get married at the country club, not on a VFW hall," BJ Daniels said as he straightened his little brother Frank's tie. 

"The Schultz family reunion cancelled at the last minute so there was an opening." Frank dead panned.

Big brother Brian Jr. laughed at his brother's quip. "Last minute cancellation three weeks ago, yeah, sure; I believe you when millions wouldn't. You're just lucky Joyce was there to answer the phone when you called. It's very hard to get an RSVP from an answering machine."

Frank looked up into his brother's eyes. "Do you like her?"

"Yes, I like Karen."

"So do I," Clare, the Daniels' middle child broke up the brother bonding moment. "Karen got you to finally cut the old apron strings and get away from Mommy Dearest."

BJ swung his arm over his sister's shoulder. "That is so cruel; correct but cruel."

"I was just saving money living at home." Frank wheeled between his siblings before the inevitable nuggies started. "It isn't as if I was a doctor or a book editor or anything that could be done here as well as all over hell's half acre."

"Can I help it if I teach immunology at the University of Toronto?" Clare tossed off, "and now that I have tenure so I'm not moving back here. BJ can read a manuscript anywhere."

"Better a Baja beach than Brighton Beach."

"Trust my children to start arguing the minute they get together." The Judge said as he walked up to his terrible trio. "This is the first time we've together in three years and all I hear is complain, complain, complain." He reached down and put his hand on Frank's shoulder. "Don't worry, your mother will come around eventually, but in the meantime there is a very nervous young lady waiting for you."

"And enough cops in the place that if you tried to escape there'd be an APB on your ass before you hit the Belt Parkway." BJ offered Frank his arm, "time for me to do my best man job. Let's go before Uncle Greg starts without you."

Frank grabbed his crutches and pushed upright and then he and BJ slowly walked into the room with their heads high. All around trellises draped in blue and silver hid the concrete block walls of the VFW hall. The harsh fluorescent lights were replaced by soft, hanging swags that added to the charm of the ceremony. A white runner led from the door to the small portable altar where their uncle, Father Greg Daniels, waited to start the show. The Daniels clan filled the most of the front row with his Dad flanked by Clare on one side and his sister in law, Joyce, on the other. Both his siblings had huge weddings at the country club and probably envied this casual ceremony that baby brother had managed to pull off. Only sixty four guests, just friends and family; this was all Frank and Karen wanted. Juan and Anita, Karen's cousins, had been playing flamenco guitar all the while the guests were being seated. Frank could see the Dunbars, his new neighbours, behind the Betancourts family. College buddies and plain clothes cops filled the rest of the seats.

Then, the tempo changed and the strains of "Here Comes the Bride" filled the room. Everybody stood, blocking Frank's view of Karen until she was right in front of him. She was gorgeous. The icy blue silk dress shimmered in the soft light. Blue and silver lace peeked out of the v-neckline and took the view for provocative to demure. Pearls circled her neck, clung to her ear lobes and were woven through the auburn curls that framed Karen's heart shaped face. She was so beautiful it took Frank's breath away. Then she looked him in the face and crossed her eyes. Yep, Frank Daniels had found his perfect mate.

* * *

The rest of the night was a blur. To keep things casual the meal was a buffet and there were no place cards. Soon Cousin Alice from Jonesboro was talking dress design with Christie Dunbar while Father Greg had Julie Russo on his lap while he talked to her parents, Marty and Janice. The precentage of police and lawyers present made it feel more like a professional development day rather than a wedding. 

"That's a funny look on you face," Frank said as pulled Karen down, onto his lap.

"Just nerves," and then she grinned at him. "We did it. We kept to my budget and everything went off without a hitch."

Frank raised his eye brows, "so you don't mind the million dollar condo?"

"I love the million dollar condo, I just wonder if the neighbours think I'm the cleaning lady."

"They had better not. They let Jim into the place."

Karen smacked the back of his head. "You had to buy in the same building my partner lives in. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't know, I swear to God I didn't know."

Then Gary Fisk interrupted the freshly minted marrieds, "Congratulations, I told you everything would work out. The band is setting up and I want to make sure I get a dance with the bride before I go. My wife has to go from here to St. Clare's tonight. She's an x-ray tech." he explained.

"I don't know if I want anyone but me to dance with my wife, but you are the boss, so I'll make an exception." He watched the man turn away and pulled her close again. "I'm not much of a dancer, but I'll make all the guys jealous tonight because I'll have the prettiest girl here on my arm."

"Ah, for that I'm going to hug you and squeeze you and call you George," Karen drawled and they both laughed. Then she leaned over and whispered in Frank's ear, "I just felt the baby kick."

With that Frank took her face in his hands, "God, I love you."

* * *

Brian Daniels walked into the kitchen and up to his wife, Eunice, as she watched the proceedings from there. 

"Its more like a frat party than a wedding," she muttered.

"They're happy. Can't you just come to grips with the fact that our children were never going to be the pretty, plastic people that populate the social scene?" Brian Daniels took his wife's hand in his, "I thought that was why you loved me, because I worked for the underdog."

"You're father was a Roosevelt liberal and you were a freedom rider. Your brother used to hang around with the Berrigans and all the kids could say social justice before they could say Bloomingdales. So I should have just sat back and enjoyed the ride." Eunice looked up at her husband and was grateful there was a smile on his face. "Neither of us was ever this poor."

"The poor will always be with us, I think that's the quote. These people aren't poor; they just have less money than us. It was only an accident of birth that put you and me in our families." He tugged her toward the door. "Come on, kiss the bride. She's a nice girl."

"I can't; not right now," and Eunice Daniels simply shook her head and walked away.

FIN


End file.
